I Believe in Her
by Jezebel Malice
Summary: [complete] Wartime. When you've got nowhere else to go, what happens whan you fall in love? [femmeslash: minds on fire]
1. Hermione POV: Pleasant Surprise

(A/n: its been a while, eh?.... oh and errors are fixed...)

DISCLAMER: I do not own the Harry Potter characters or imaginary places. They are owned and created by J.K. Rowling, published by Scholastic Books Inc, Bloomsbury Books Inc, Raincoat Books Inc, Warner Brothers Inc, and others. No money is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

WARNINGS: femmeslash, war-time

I Believe in Her

On nights like these it is almost customary to share your bed. It's all you can do to forget the fighting and the dead. It doesn't matter who it is or what your and their preferences are. It's just another body to release all of your emotion into. In times such as these you need them to be one night-ers and meaningless, because maybe that's all there is going to be. Just one night and it could be over. We could be killed in the night or the next morn.

I myself have shared many a bed and slept next to many people, but I have had sex with neither man nor woman. I assume that it shouldn't surprise you. I mean me? Hermione Granger? Have sex? That just seems a bit out of character to me. Really though, I haven't. People have tried, but I told them not to exert themselves for the following day. Then we would curl together and begin our restless slumber.

Within these later years I have gotten accustom to having my body pressed against another woman's. Men are hard and callous. Their skin and lips aren't soft like a woman. They don't caress my body as warm and sweetly as a woman does. Their sweat is not as sweet. They don't even bother to try and make a girl feel special. The men are the ones that want sex the most. They don't even care about foreplay, or so I've heard. Who would want a man?

Women are perfectly curved. It's not just about the sex, and if it is, they are willing to be more kind about bringing it up as opposed to; 'So are we going to fuck now?' It's more of; 'I need you.' That makes a girl feel special. Just because we are at war, doesn't mean that you shouldn't go out of your way to make someone feel good and beautiful and sexy.

Anyway, I think that tonight I'm going to break this celibacy. Gods and goddesses forgive me. I am about to obtain the unattainable. Earlier, Ginny Weasley graced herself upon my doorstep.

When I opened the door I had my wand at a ready position. When I realized who it was I lowered my wand and dropped my jaw. My mouth stood agape, "You?"

"What? You aren't glad to see me?" She pouted at me.

"Y-yes," I stammered. "I-I mean, of course I'm glad to see you. I just wasn't expecting to see you."

A stunning, alluring creature is what she is. Though the war has taken a toll on us all she still manages to be so damn beautiful. There are only little things that I have noticed. Her eyes are a darker Shade of blue, almost a cobalt blue, to mach the dark circles under them. Her figure has diminished some, due to the lack of supplies and food and overall stress. Her nails are like mine, chewed down and chipped. Her skin is scarred and pale, yet somehow she is sitting with me in my living room, sipping tea, and she is looking quite lovely.

I shift uncomfortably in my chair. I can feel my arousal and I'm almost positive she can sense it. She gazes at me deeply from the chair opposite mine. I cough nervously and take a sip if my tea.

She sets her cup down on the floor between us. She keeps that eye contact, as I peer at her over the rim of my own cup. She smiles, "Aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?"

I nearly spit the mouthful of liquid I have all over, out of pure nervousness. I put my hands and my cup in my lap, "Um, y-yes, of course." I don't think I have been this nervous in my entire life. Not even around Harry. I mean, this is Ginny, the girl who spent the hot summers curled next to me in her bedroom. I was never like this then, even when I figured out that I wanted her. I guess in times like these, nights like these, you expect the worst. Yet, it's still just the same Ginny. She just came looking for something different this time.

She stands. She's a bit taller than me. Her long legs walk her towards me. She grins at me and plucks my cup from my shaking hands and sets it gently on the floor. "Hermione, I never thought of you as a fearful one. Quiet, yes, but not fearful. I won't bite you. Well," she chuckles, "not very hard." She sits on my lap and laughs again, very girlishly. "Well that was a bit cliché, wasn't it? I'm sorry." She kisses my ear.

I can't help but moan. It's been long, much too long since I have felt the contact of another in such a way. She's teasing me and biting me oh-so sensuously. Yet, a part of me almost feels guilty as I touch her, pulling her body close to mine. I nibble her collarbone and work my way up her neck. Finally I reach her ear. "You do this often, don't you?"

She pauses from unbuttoning my shirt for a moment, looking a little hurt. "What do you mean by that?"

Crap, bad thing to say. "No, no Ginny, I wasn't suggesting--"

She stands suddenly "--that I 'get around.'"

I find myself standing as well. "No, not at all, I just meant--" I ball up my fists and drop my arms down, "I don't know." I sink back into my chair, defeated, and put my fingers to my temples. "I'm sorry. I don't really do this much." I place my face into my hands, "I don't do this at all."

I feel her heat move. Her fingers are on my back and shoulders, rubbing the pains away. Her hot breath is on my ear as she continues rubbing, "What are you saying?"

"I haven't done this before." I say after a moment.

"With a woman?" she asks kindly, trying to understand.

I shake my head, "Not with anyone."

"I didn't know," she says as she nuzzles into my neck. "I always thought you and Ron got into it sometime in school." She chuckles.

"Ick," I laugh too. Then I sigh, "I just don't know what to do or say," I pause. "I'm sorry if offended you."

"You didn't. I take it as a very big compliment, actually. I mean, considering I haven't done this with anyone either," she smiles.

I sit, shocked.

"Everything will be okay," she purrs "this is going to be a good first." I believe her. It doesn't matter if she's lying, I still believe. Even in this time of war and turmoil, I still have that feeling of safety and warmth. I know that it's just going to be tonight, but it feels as if this could be my future.

Her skin is soft against mine. I see the story of her life written out on her body. There were scars she got from our school days. There are freckles on her nose from days past, spending too much time in the sun at the burrow. I see her ribs. She doesn't eat, like me. On her thighs self-inflicted marks, like mine. They intersect and cross in little white, irregular patterns.

She's beautiful. She's unique. She's giving herself to me. She's showing me a part of her she says no one else had had before. I believe in her, if anything at all. She's all I have, until tomorrow. I can't think about tomorrow. It's not there. It's only her and tonight. It's her warmth, her mouth on mine, her tongue on me, her body pressing against mine in the most carnal of ways. She's devouring me. She tells me that I'm beautiful, even if it's not true.

This night is an eternity, even after the candles die. She holds me. My back presses into her front, skin against skin. It's the best feeling in the world. This is how it's supposed to be. Her breathing is rhythmic against my ear, but she isn't asleep. She savors this, just as I do. And there is silence for the longest time.

"Hermione," she whispers.

"Hm?"

"I--" she takes a breath, composing herself. "I love you."

I finally process what she said. I smile and snuggle closer. "If we get out of this alive, Gin, I'll stay with you forever." I pause, "I love you too." I certainly wouldn't mind being with her. When this war ends I think I want her with me. I really hope we meant it.

"Good, I want you forever. I always have. Goodnight Hermione," she kisses my hair.

"Goodnight," I whisper.

Eventually tomorrow comes.

(A/n: well, here it is. Goodnight, baby.)


	2. Ginny POV: Perfection

(A/n: wow, I didn't think I would ever write a second chapter to this, but somehow I find myself here. That's right, Sam, I found a little inspiration. OH and I realized I kept in the Tom thing… see I wrote it as Ginny POV in the beginning, but then I realized, wait, that sounds like Herm, but I guess I missed that correction, so yeah ignore that!)

DISCLAMERS:

-I do not own the Harry Potter characters or imaginary places. They are owned and created by J.K. Rowling, published by Scholastic Books Inc, Bloomsbury Books Inc, Raincoat Books Inc, Warner Brothers Inc, and others. No money is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

-Oh, and the song (in italics) is called "Such Great Heights" by Iron and Wine, but I am unaware of its producers.

WARNINGS: femmeslash, war-time

I Believe in Her: Chapter 2

The confidence and courage I had earlier went with my words. I let her through an emotional wall I've not let people pass through for a long time. Also, there is something different now. It's okay to be myself. I didn't even have to try and seduce her. I don't think so anyway. There is also this vulnerable feeling I get when I'm naked, which is another reason why I've not gotten naked with anyone else before her.

Well, actually I have. So I lied, but thing is they weren't worth the things they did to me, so they don't count. Hermione is the only person who has made me feel loved and safe. Tom raped me, which any fool could have guessed, but it was never mentioned in the Daily Prophet. Part of me is glad, because I didn't want people thinking I was potentially knocked up or something. And then there was that thing with Fleur. She was a terrible person. She did end up switching to the dark side after I told her that I refused to let her abuse me anymore. She and I didn't really have sex; she just kind of clawed me and slapped me around.

Now isn't the time to think about those things though, because I am happy. This is the first time I have been happy in a long time. I have the woman I've longed for curled into me. Her naked body fits perfectly next to mine, like we are made just for each other.

Her skin is so warm and soft. I never want to leave this warm heaven. At the same time I know that we can't stay here. We are never safe. It's growing tiresome, this war. By the time we find Voldemort, the world won't be worth saving. It will fall to pieces and rain shards of what it used to be.

I know that it's silly for me to get so worked up about leaving her when dawn breaks, because this is how it has to be. She's a big girl and can take care of herself. As a matter of fact, sometimes it's like she takes care of me, especially when we were kids. She would always bandage and heal my minor Quiddich injuries, and she held me when I cried. Honestly, I don't know how I survive without her. She makes me feel whole. She also makes me feel a little bit crazy, but in a good way.

I've missed her so much during these months. Finally I got the guts to show up here. I put on quite a performance to make sure she really was interested. It was unnessicery, but I felt somewhat inclined.

I want this feeling forever, the intense comfort of her warmth. It is overwhelming, the good kind of overwhelming. I don't know how long I can last without this feeling. I don't know when I will see her next, or if I will find her, but I do intend to try.

Nothing could ever feel so right. I know I should sleep, but I cannot deny myself this pleasure. It's so pure and so simple. I can tell she is having a hard time sleeping. I noticed when she answered the door. Her brown are eyes dark and deep, from the sight of death, destruction, and hate. She has dark circles like me, from many sleepless nights, from fear for her life. Her body is still full and curved to perfection, and she is still lacking in her chest, but it's never really bothered me. Now I know her breasts are fantastic, no matter the size.

She is beautiful. She always has been, regardless of what people thought in school. They were all jealous of her. She is such a clever witch, the cleverest in the school while she attended. I cannot count the times I have thought about her this way and tried to tell her, but my words always seemed to fail me. I feel so silly now.

One day I know I will have her. We will love each other. We're going to take care of each other when this bloody war is done and over. Damn Voldemort. Damn Harry for not fulfilling the prophecy sooner. When I think about it, without the war I am not sure if this would have happened at all. I hope, when this is over and done with, she'll find me. I know I'll do my best to find her.

Everything has changed. I think I know what she wants, but I still don't know. The way she laces her fingers with mine could be very tell tale, but I'm just trying to enjoy it while I can. I can hear the birds signaling the sunrise. It will be light in a matter of minutes.

"Ginny," she mumbles quietly and turns over. Her dark eyes are staring into me. She smiles a weak smile, showing her still perfect teeth. Her hands caress my face and she kisses me tenderly. "Baby," she murmurs, "we have to get dressed, it's almost daybreak."

"Hermione, I don't want to get out of bed," I whisper in a somewhat whiny tone. I know better than that. The enemy could be coming at any time.

"I'm getting out of bed and dressing by myself then," she says. I suppose it would be pointless to lay here without her. Besides, she's right. She's always right. "If you stay you could get killed, and I don't think I could handle that."

"You're right. I'm getting up. I was planning on it," I sit up, the blankets slipping from my breasts. Suddenly a wave of self-consciousness washes over me. I honestly don't know where all the supposed Gryffindor courage goes. If she was ever modest, it's not apparent now. I watch her stand and cross the room, naked, searching for her clothes. I cover myself.

I take note of her slightly protruding ribs and hips, the bruises and scars that litter her delicate, pale, porcelain skin. She looks so fragile. I need to hold her and make sure she cant break in my absence. I stand; my apprehensions about my appearance fade. I recall her telling me I was beautiful, so why was I worrying how I look? Besides, it's more important for me to embrace her, one last time. She shudders when I press my body against her, but relaxes in my arms.

"Hermione," I whisper in her ear, just as I did last night. "I'm never going to forget this. And when this is over, I'm going to find you."

She faces me and wipes the tears from her face. "I love you," she says and then sobs lightly into my shoulder.

"I love you too." We stand, embracing each other, reveling in the warmth of the other, before we must venture into the dark world, one last time before we fight a war that we've already lost. I know I'll find her, even in death.

_I am thinking it's a sign  
That the freckles in our eyes  
Are mirror images and  
When we kiss they're perfectly aligned_

_And I have to speculate  
That God himself did make us into  
Corresponding shapes like puzzles pieces  
From the clay_

_True, it may seem like a stretch  
But it's thoughts like this  
That catch my troubled head  
When you're away, when I am missing you to death_

_When you were out there on the road _

_For several weeks of shows  
And when you scan the radio  
I hope this song will guide you home_

_  
They will see us waving from such great heights  
"Come down now," they'll say  
But everything looks perfect from far away  
"Come down now," but we'll stay  
_

_I've tried my best to leave  
This all on your machine  
But the persistent beat  
Sounded thin upon listening_

_And that simply will not fly  
You will hear the shrillest highs  
And lowest lows with the windows down  
When this is guiding you home _

_They will see us waving from such great heights  
"Come down now," they'll say  
But everything looks perfect from far away  
"Come down now," but we'll say_

(A/n: Alright, let me know what you think. Oh and you should download that song, because it's beautiful. It makes me want to cry whenever I hear it, and crying isn't something that I do.)


	3. Hermione POV: Put the Kettle on

DISCLAMER: I do not own the Harry Potter characters or imaginary places. They are owned and created by J.K. Rowling, published by Scholastic Books Inc, Bloomsbury Books Inc, Raincoat Books Inc, Warner Brothers Inc, and others. No money is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. The song is from 'Hedwig and the Angry Inch'. The song is based off of a Greek myth. It's a great movie.

WARNINGS: femmeslash, war-time

I Believe in Her: Chapter Three

It's a sweltering summer night. It has been a few months since I've been in her arms. There have been a couple of times I have seen her. It is usually when we're in the same meeting or on the same assignment. We can't behave how we did that night. Not in front of everyone else at least. No sense in causing danger.

The setting sun is burning hot as I sit on the fire escape. I am waiting for her. She promised me she would be here after the sun sets. I am tingling in anticipation to feel her soft skin pressed against mine, to hear her hitched breathing, her cries as she comes, and to bask in her warmth and love until sunrise.

I haven't watched a sunset since I was in school. The last time I watched one was with Ginny. It was a couple of months before fifth, sixth, and seventh years were drafted. We were sitting on the edge of the frozen lake. The sun was a deep red color, almost ominously so. The sky slowly turned from orange to pink to purple and finally a deep blue. I saw all of the colors reflect off of the snow. I swear I saw her reflect too. It was at that point when I took a hard look at the girl next to me. I remember thinking how striking her hair was against the sky and how her eyes could never be that color of blue.

I see her below me now. Her obnoxious dark sunglasses are in front of those eyes, and she is wearing those silly black gloves with the cut off fingers. She is whispering something to herself and is looking around to see if anyone has followed. Sometimes I wonder if she has had a couple of screws knocked loose. I love her regardless. I hear the door bell in my apartment, and I go buzz her in. Within a minute there is a faint knock on my door.

The second I open it she flies into my arms and kisses me. "Goddess," she whispers into my ear. "I've missed you."

"Not as much as I've missed you," I retort.

Eventually she lets go. I shut the door. She puts the kettle on. We talk. It's been ages since we have talked.

"It's so good to see you on missions every now and again," she says. "It lets me know that you're still alive." There is a pause. "Knowing you're going to be there gives me something to fight for, to live for." She begins to cry.

It's touching. She is so emotional. It is hard for me to vulnerable. Thus far she is the only person to really see me in a delicate state. I trust her. I love her. I _love_ her. "I love you," I blurt.

"I love you too, Hermione," she says as she sets her cup down.

The sunset is when I first implied that I had feelings for her. Or rather, it was after the sunset. We were on our way back to the castle. It was cold and snowy and she wasn't wearing a warm cloak or proper foot wear. The dear was moping and shivering. She was complaining about how the person whom she loved, me, didn't care for her the same. So I turned to her and said, 'You don't know that.' And I hugged her and held her as she shuddered against the cold. I may have kissed her, but I don't really remember.

Now, her eyes are darker than that sky on the outside edges of her iris. Towards the middle it turns grey. In the middle they are a silvery blue, like the color reflected on the snow. I never thought I would like them this way, but I do. Almost like I didn't think I would like her war hardened body and mind. Her skin is still so soft and there is a soft place in her heart. It's a place I could have solely seen. Somehow I love everything about her, and I can't break away because it's all so comforting. Just having her here makes me feel domestic and happy, opposed to a witch warrior in a torn nation of wizards. When I am with her there is no dark and light, no good and evil. It is just us. No battles, just a safe loved feeling.

She smiles at me from across the room. As her lips curl I catch a glint of the old Ginny behind her eyes, the mischievous little darling. She beckons me to sit next to her on the sofa. I sink into the tattered old thing. It might have belonged to my parents. As soon as I get comfortable she puts her hand on my thigh and leans to kiss me. It's soft and warm. I could live in her mouth. I could live in her in general. I wouldn't mind never leaving her. I dream of one day just being one person with her. This woman is my second half.

We lay there a while, warm and close on that tiny sofa. She has her arms wrapped securely around me. I have mine wrapped around her. Our bellies and breasts are touching, and we rub our noses together and giggle. With everything that's happening outside the walls of my flat, we still manage to keep what's going on out of our minds. It's almost, just for a second, like we are back in our school days.

As she holds me I begin to tremble. It's a lovely dream, but I never want to wake up. She knows what I'm thinking. She brushes her lips over mine. I lean to kiss her again, but she pulls away from me after getting very close. It's both amusing and frustrating.

"Wha- what are you doing?" I lean, but she pulls back. All I can do is whine. She kisses me. What passion. I can't help but bite into her lip. I want to hear her moan.

"Mm, Hermione," she pants into my ear as I suck on hers.

Her hands find their way to my breasts. My oh-so sensitive nipples are perfectly erect as she plays and kneads. Somehow I am on her lap, grinding onto her belt buckle. She tears her eyes away from mine to look at what my pelvis is doing. She runs her fingers down my stomach and kisses my neck. I can't help but throw my head back, pant, and moan. The things that woman does to me.

She smirks at me, "You're really horny tonight."

I keep writhing against her. "Maybe a little," I manage to get out. "What about you?" I stop so I can speak properly. "Your mouth is all swollen and pink. You're as hot as I am, aren't you?"

She flashes me a wide grin, "You'll hafto wait and see." She puts a hand in my hair and pulls my mouth towards those lovely lips.

In the other room I hear a high pitched whistle. The water is ready for tea. Bloody hell. She looks at me, expectantly, to get up so she can fetch the tea. I oblige but not without protest.

"Can't we just turn the burner off?" I bite my lip to sell it better, but she only smiles and heads to the kitchenette. Not soon after does she return with the tea.

"All you had was cinnamon herb," she frowns. She wants lemon. She likes lemon. We sip in silence.

That is until she sets her cup down momentarily, and I climb back on top of her. She smiles a bold smile and wraps her arms around my middle as I kiss her long and hard. She's soft and beautiful, and she moans into my mouth as I rub her chest. She pulls my red camisole off as I unbutton her black shirt. My skirt rides up when she runs her hands up my thighs, over my scars and healing, self-inflicted wounds. Somehow she looks but shrugs it off. I take her bra off. There are small cuts where it covered. She understands.

We venture to the bed. I wave my wand and light the candles and incense. The room quickly fills with the smell of ylang-ylang and myrrh. She is quick to unlatch her belt and unbutton those tight jeans. They hit the floor as I let my skirt drop. Her skin is flawless under the candle light. We stand there, like bloody fools, just staring at one another. We were under candle light before, but didn't really get a good look at one another. She's built like a boy; broad shoulders, narrow hips, but she has something about her that makes her perfectly feminine.

She crosses the room and pulls me into a warm embrace. It's so good to feel her bare skin on mine; palms on my back, her breasts against mine. When we get into bed her legs get intertwined with mine. So silky. We shed our panties fast as possible. I reach to touch her and she's dripping.

"I win, you're as hot as me," I love being right.

She only blushes and kisses me. She busies her hand with me and we move together. It's slow and it's amazing. She's in so deep it's almost as if we're one. She is the first to fall over the edge, her cries growing louder until my hand is covered in warmth. The movement of her hand stops and I hold her until the shuddering stops.

She mumbles something inaudible and sighs. She then becomes aggressive, kissing me and touching me all over, her tongue sliding up and down my body, her hands everywhere at once. I push on her shoulders and she moves down, pausing to dip her tongue in my belly button. She teases me only a moment before giving in. I grab her hair as the sensation rips through me. I can feel her fingers again. Oh gods and goddesses. I can't control my body anymore and my mind clouds. Suddenly my insides melt and I cry out only a little.

She lazily crawls up my body and lies on top of me. She wipes her mouth on my neck and then kisses it. "You're lovely," she whispers. I'm sure the tea is cold by now.

We lie there, feeling like we're the only two people in the world. We're sticky due to the summer heat and sweat. I reach to the nightstand and wave my wand to extinguish the candles. She curls around me and whispers that she loves me. I say the same to her, because I really mean it. I won't say it if I don't mean it.

**Origin Of Love**

by Rufus Wainwright

When the earth was still flat  
And the clouds made of fire  
And mountains stretched up to the sky  
Sometimes higher  
Folks roamed the earth  
Like big rolling kegs  
They had two sets of arms  
They had two sets of legs  
They had two faces peering  
Out of one giant head  
So they could watch all around them  
As they talked while they read  
And they never knew nothing of love  
It was before...  
The origin of love  
The origin of love

And there were three sexes then  
One that looked like two men  
Glued up back to back  
Called the children of the sun  
And similar in shape and girth  
Were the children of the earth  
They looked like  
Two girls rolled up in one  
And the children of the moon  
Was like a fork shoved on a spoon  
They were part sun, part earth  
Part daughter, part son

-------

Last time I saw you  
We had just split in two  
You were looking at me  
I was looking at you  
You had a way so familiar  
But I could not recognize  
'Cause you had blood on your face  
I had blood in my eyes  
But I could swear by your expression  
That the pain down in your soul  
Was the same as the one down in mine  
That's the pain  
That cuts a straight line down through the heart  
We call it love  
We wrapped our arms around each other  
Tried to shove ourselves back together  
We were making love  
Making love  
It was a cold, dark evening  
Such a long time ago  
When by the mighty hand of Jove  
It was the sad story how we became  
Lonely two-legged creatures  
It's the story of the origin of love  
That's the origin of love

(A/n: Alright! I am proud of that tasteful sex scene. I hope that's what you all wanted, yes? Review or no more chapters!)


	4. H&G POVs: Please and Pleas

(A/n: okaaay… so I'm going to fill some things in and get on with the freakin' plot. Sorry Kitty, its now going to be partially fictional, because I'm in the mood to write a good tripped out story.)

DISCLAMER: I do not own the Harry Potter characters or imaginary places. They are owned and created by J.K. Rowling, published by Scholastic Books Inc, Bloomsbury Books Inc, Raincoat Books Inc, Warner Brothers Inc, and others. No money is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended. The song is from 'Hedwig and the Angry Inch'. The song is based off of a Greek myth. It's a great movie.

WARNINGS: femmeslash, war-time

I Believe in Her: Chapter 4

(Ginny POV)

I'm not sure what time it is. It's late. Or it's early. It depends on how one wants to look at it. I find myself out of bed, milling about her apartment. I put the kettle on, though she is out of lemon tea. I sip as I admire the simplicity of this place. Khaki painted walls. Two chairs, a coffee table, and a couch. A fridge, a toaster, a stove, and microwave, but no food. A bed, a dresser, and a nightstand, but nothing to keep in them. Everything is so simple. I suppose it has to be. It's easier to get over losing a house if it isn't really a home.

She's really cute when she's asleep. She sprawls on the bed and her body diagonal on the mattress. She snores only a little. If she lies on her side she drools. Her face is quiet and content. The only other time she looks so content is after she comes. A wave of euphoria washes over her and there is nothing to worry about. Nothing in the world could ever be wrong.

It used to be that way when we were younger. I saw that contentment in every smile. Her beautiful eyes would almost seem iridescent. And she would smile so big that she needed to close her eyes a little. I sometimes like to think that she never really changed, but I know she has. I can tell by the way she smiles now. It never reaches far enough.

When I sit on the bed she shifts. I lay down and she moves over for me, and then she curls into my body. She's still naked. I pull her close and kiss the back of her neck. She giggles.

"Hey, that tickles," she says dreamily as she rolls over.

"Sorry," I murmur and nuzzle my face onto her neck.

She laughs more. It's not forced. When I look into her eyes I see that they're bright. She's happy -- she's smiling -- she's -- she's mischievous! I jerk and laugh as she pokes my ribs. Helpless is one word to describe the way I am when tickled. I can't stop moving and I can't stop laughing.

"Stop, please!" I cry, but she is relentless. I try and twitch my way off the bed. I land on the floor with a thud. She laughs at how contorted I am; my weight on my shoulders and my bum in the air.

"Do you remember this?" she says, as I cautiously sit next to her.

"Remember what?" I really don't know.

"This," she waves her hand over the bed. "You know, fun? I am twenty-two years old and I feel like I've lost so much time. Time to just _be_."

I nod, "I know what you mean. I have given five years of my life for this war. And I've lost more than just that." I don't have to say it. She knows what I've lost, because she's lost them too. Not only have I lost family, I've been losing myself. Liquid memories of who I was are escaping through my cupped hands. When I look down I see that they are filling with my tears. New memories.

"Ginny," she whispers. "Please don't cry. I didn't mean to bring any of that up. I- I just want to talk about something; anything. We don't talk." She doesn't seem to notice that the sheets have slipped down. I touch her shoulder and she puts her hand over mine. "We can talk about anything you want." She squeezes my hand. I don't have anything to say. Nothing she'd care to hear. I want to talk about how things could be. I want to talk about the fact that Ron's dead. I want to ask her why she wants me. "Please," she gazes intently at me.

"Why now?" I finally say. "Why not before?"

"I don't know what you mean-"

"Of course you do," I pull my hand back. "Is it because Ron's dead? Is that why you want me?"

She looks hurt. "I was with Ron before because I couldn't be with you. I love _you_. It's always been _you_," her eyes gather tears and she pulls the sheet to cover herself. "I swear to you, Ginny, it's the truth. I could never lie to you."

"But you did."

"What did you want me to do? How do you respond to something like that? You know how people are- were. Now, now it doesn't matter what happens or what people think because the world is falling away." She lets out a strangled sob. "It doesn't matter."

"It did though. You hurt me because you were too afraid to try," I'm crying too. "I was afraid too, and fucking hell, I am still afraid."

We just sit there; time winding itself around us, the past floating by us, the future a black abyss of uncertainty is hurtling towards us. She's all I've got left, and I am pushing her away. Suddenly the memories turn to glass and shatter. I try and put it back together, but shards only dig into my skin. I don't want to lose any of it. I do though, all that's left are the shards embedded inside of me and a couple that I keep in a locket. Everything turns black and I fall. It's endless. The air rushes past me as I fall. Then I hit the bottom. I need to get back. I can hear my name being called, echoing in the distance. Please. I reach up for anything to grab onto, but I slip because my hands are bloody from the glass. Please, I need Hermione

(Hermione POV)

I don't know what happened. One minute we were talking, the next crying. Just as things were calming down she glazed over, whimpering. She wasn't responding to me, no matter how I persisted. Then it happened. Her body began to shudder and she fell onto the floor. I came to her side right away. She was hyperventilating, and curled up in the fetal position. I didn't know what to do. Blood started dripping from her nose.

"Ginny, please be okay," I begged. "Ginny, please. I love you."

After a minute or two her body stopped convulsing and she grabbed me. I began to sob with relief. We lay on the floor for ages. Her head was resting on my stomach, where a little bit of blood had gathered, dried. The rhythm of her breathing lulled me into a daze. I laid and thought about what had happened. Was she going mad? Was something else wrong?

"Hermione," she whispers finally. "What happened?"

"I don't know," I say. "You were there, but then you weren't. I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm really sorry," she says as she notices the dried blood on her face. She sits up "I didn't think that could ever happen when I'm with you."

I sit up too, "What did happen exactly?"

"Time caved in on itself," she says.

"What?"

"Never mind, forget I said anything." She looks down, "Maybe I should sleep." She gets up and crawls into bed. "Will you wake me before the sun comes up?"

"Yes, of course." I get up and turn the shower on.

The thing is, I was with Ron, but I broke it off with him. That was before he died. I feel somewhat guilty because maybe he just didn't have anything to live for anymore. I think he expected to build a life with me. My heart was there once, but then it was just gone. She was there. I had been in love with her for a while, but who wants to be ridiculed their whole life, just because they love something out if the ordinary? So, I was with him. I did love him, but wasn't in love… yeah I don't really know where I'm going with this. I just thought that it would make a little more sense.

After I dry off I walk into the bedroom to get dressed. She has been dressed for a while, probably since after I dozed off earlier. Now we both are clad in black. Her top four buttons on her shirt are unbuttoned, her black pants cling to her, and the blood on her face has dried so dark, it's almost black. Her bright red hair covers part of her face, contrasting the dark iron color. Her frame isn't as delicate as mine. She has upper body power, something I don't really possess, but would like to. I have adorned myself in a black button up and black pants as well, but they aren't as close to my skin. You'd think that's our uniform, because everyone wears black, when in truth it's because we're all in mourning.

This all has been really hard on her. I don't think she's been sleeping. She kind of just glazes over sometimes but then snaps back into reality. It's like she's dreaming or something, but she's awake. I've read that when you haven't slept enough dreams and reality meld into one. That may have happened to her tonight. Although, the nose-bleed is still a question. She's not eating. We've run out of supplies, and we can't accept food from anyone because it could be hexed or cursed. I don't know what to do to help her. I can't even help myself. I probably wouldn't eat if I had the choice. Paranoia runs the wizard world now.

I sit on the fire escape as I sip the tea she made earlier. It's cold now, but still has enough caffeine to push me until noon. I don't know if the sun is rising or not because this is a west facing escape, but the birds are starting to chirp a little. That's when I hear the noise inside too. I hear her call my name, so I dive through the window and run to the bedroom.

(Ginny POV)

I feel warmth next to me and I open my eyes to see its source.

"Tom?" I gasp. Only it isn't Tom, it's an older version of the sixteen year old boy I once knew.

"What's the matter? Didn't you miss me?" He hisses.

I stand on the bed for a moment, trying to wake up and assess the situation. There are two hooded figures flanking him. I know my wand resting next to my belt on the floor on the other side of the bed, so I jump back and duck. One of the Death Eaters hurls a curse at me, but they miss and hit the wall. I try disarming him but he blocks it.

"Why don't you just give up, my love?" he smiles thinly. "You can't win."

I throw a hex, but it's no good. "Hermione!"

(A/n: holey shit. I was going to make it a little more tripped out with the whole falling in the pit thing. We'll see what happens. Remember… review!)


	5. H&G POVs: Perchance to Dream

(A/n: for you hardcore fans I now have a live journal for your viewing pleasure. Check the homepage link in my profile if you want to know how a story is coming along or if there is something new in store. I suggest you check it out and post some comments if you wish. Now that that's out of the way…)

DISCLAMER: I do not own the Harry Potter characters or imaginary places. They are owned and created by J.K. Rowling, published by Scholastic Books Inc, Bloomsbury Books Inc, Raincoat Books Inc, Warner Brothers Inc, and others. No money is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

WARNINGS: femmeslash, war-time

I Believe in Her: Chapter Five

(Hermione POV)

I sit on the fire escape. I am waiting for her. She promised me she would be here after the sun sets, just like that time before. Just like that time she broke down. She was swearing and hollering and blowing holes in my walls. When I got in the bedroom she was yammering relentlessly about Voldermort. He wasn't there. I apperated us to the safe house. They confirmed my initial suspicions. She was overstressed and sleep deprived. For the last couple of months they've had Mediwizards keeping a close eye on her. They're supposed to release her when she's no longer a danger to herself and those on our side. Today is that day.

She's in her standard black shirt, black slacks, black combat boots, black gloves, and black sunglasses. She'll never change. She might be crazy, but I love her. She has her hair cut shorter and it is in a short pony-tail. She's beautiful. I watch her swagger down the street, nodding at the muggles as she goes. She's learned how to blend in better than the lot of us, even muggle born. Merlin, why does she have to walk like that? It's both sexy and obnoxious.

She walks under the canopy in the front of my building and I hear the bell. A few minutes after I buzz her in there is a knock at my door. When I open it there is no glomping hug. She stands there awkwardly for a moment before stepping in. She pulls the dark glasses away from her eyes. "I'm sorry, for last time" she whispers, looking at the floor.

I pull her close into a hug. "I know, sweetie, its okay." She follows suit and wraps her strong arms around me. Within seconds she begins to cry. I've always loved it when she cries. Not that I like to see her crying, but she looks amazingly beautiful with tears in her eyes. I also become emotional and find myself snotting all over her shirt. I murmur an apology and pull away. After she puts her boots by the door I grab her hand and lead her to the fire escape.

(Ginny POV)

I can see why she loves this place so much. The sky near the horizon is yellow and as you look further away it turns to dark blue. The sun itself is a big red ball, slowly sinking in the sky. As we sit on that landing she rests her head on my shoulder.

Right about now I am sure you're probably thinking 'what the fuck?' Yeah, I kind of went crazy. I suppose you could call it cracking under pressure. I would call it excessive paranoia. Not sleeping or eating can make a person incredibly delirious. Yet, there was something about that vision, the one with the ribbon of memories shattering. Something about it seems kind of important. It happened when I saw the dark future. I don't know what it means, but I do intend on seeking some guidance from Team Gypsy; Patil and Brown. Hermione would only scoff at the idea of consulting them. Right now none of it seems as important as it should.

Hermione is just sitting there, letting the scene overtake her. After a few minutes she turns to me. "Ginny" she says"I would like to know what happened that night." My mouth goes dry. I cannot, for the life of me answer that question. There is no true way to describe it. Either she reads minds or got the idea that I didn't really know the extent of what happened. "Never mind. They told me what you told them. It just seems so strange."

"How do you mean" I inquire. I am somewhat distracted by her short skirt, which is dangerously riding up. I can see that scar that I have a tendency to trace with my thumb when I'm making love to her.

"Ginny, you practically had a seizure, then your nose started" she shudders involuntarily"bleeding uncontrollably, and you laid there, half conscious for an hour or so. Yet, all that happened was you had some sort of hallucination. Not long after you proceed to think Voldemort is there and you blow holes in my wall."

"I don't know what happened, Hermione. It was like you said; one minute I was there, the next I wasn't. I really would like to explain, I just don't know how" I sigh. I don't know how else to answer, all I can really think about is feeling that scar beneath the pad of my thumb. "Again, I am sorry about your walls."

"Well, who knows? It's probably like they said" She then goes into about how unhealthy I was leading up to the incident. Then there is a long pause. "I don't care about the walls. You're okay, and that's all that matters" she smiles and leans in to kiss me. It's amazing. I have mot kissed this woman in months. She's so talented with that mouth of hers. The way she kisses makes me fall a million miles into her soul. Her fingers curl around the back of my neck, bringing me closer for a deeper kiss. Her tongue darts in and out of my mouth before I can respond. I pull back and gasp for breath.

She looks at me coyly and looks into the apartment.

(Hermione POV)

Yes, I know we're having a semi serious conversation, but I don't think my loins can take it any longer. I need to feel that mouth, that skin. I've been deprived of this woman for long enough. I love her like nothing else and I need to show her how much and to what extent. I cannot let her get stressed out again. I need to do something to relieve that pressure and energy, so I take her inside.

I kiss her even more feverishly once in the flat. Her breath hitches when I push her up against the wall. Normally I would be concerned, but I can't say that I am. I pull back to make sure she's fine anyway. She has this cute dumbfounded look on her face and her lips are swollen. Her shirt is unbuttoned, as per usual, to show her cleavage. Her chest is heaving with her breaths.

I lean close to her"You okay"

She licks her pink lips and nods, in response.

"Good" I whisper and push my body flush against hers. I have never seen her like this. She's so… vulnerable. Usually I would be the one shoved against the wall, flustered. I can feel my lips curl into a smile. I've never had this sort of power over someone. No one has ever desired me in such a way, nor have they found me intimidating. It is shocking that the person whom does desire me and find me intimidating is Ginny Weasley. She really isn't herself tonight, but I'm not complaining.

Suddenly she lunges toward me and kisses me. She kisses me hungrily. Her hands rove down my body. I can feel her fingertips trailing down my spine. Then her hands cup my arse and she picks me up. Instinctively I put my hands on her shoulders as she hoists me up and I wrap my legs above her hips. There's that belt buckle again, rubbing me tauntingly. Damn this skirt. There are only my panties as a barrier to the metal of the buckle. When we need to come up for air she notices my writhing and squeezes. She laughs when I moan.

"You like that" A grin is still playing at her features.

"Shut up Ginny" is all I can think to say, as she carries me to the couch. When we get there she lays me down, and then sets herself gently on top of me. A few strands of hair that have escaped from the pony fall in her eyes. I tuck them behind her ear so I can look at her. She's the same girl, the same little girl I have always known. Mischief is twinkling behind those eyes and she smiles. Yet, she isn't the same girl. She has killed. She's watched her friends die and be tortured. I cannot imagine how she must feel, but I can see why she's losing her mind. "I love you" I murmur before I pull her lips onto mine.

(Ginny POV)

She is pure passion. I drive my hip against her pelvis. She gasps and moans and that gives me excessive confidence. I lean bury my face onto her shoulder and sink my teeth in. Not hard, mind you, just enough to arouse. It works as I had expected. She moans and claws at my back.

"Hey" she pants. "This is nice and all, but I think that the bed would be better."

I nod and stand up. She grabs my hand and leads me to the bedroom. She is a romantic. There is a single candle lit, hovering above the nightstand. She smiles at me as she unbuttons the rest of my shirt. I love the feel of her soft hands as she pushes it off my shoulders. I reach to pull her black tank top over her head, but she steps back and does so herself. I step toward her and touch her slender form. She reacts, shuddering as if touched by an electrical current, but then relaxes. I graze my nails over her ribs as I reach behind her. I planned to pull her against me, but she reaches to unbuckle my belt instead. My pants drop to the floor. Now I am standing in my knickers. A feeling of modesty washes over me. I try to cover myself, but her hands are on my body. She guides me to the bed.

Her lips cover mine. When I reach to pull down her skirt, it's already gone. Her thighs straddle my body and she puts us into a relined position. The swell of her delicate chest pushes against mine.

(Hermione POV)

It is all I can do to not rip her panties off and fuck her right here, right now. I prolong it though, because a good fucking is what she wants. I can tell by the slow rhythm her hips have set. I resituate so I am lying next to her. I take off the rest of our physical barriers so that we're naked. I then lay on top of her, my back on her front.

"Touch me" I order. I can feel her one hand working to find my clit and the other working its fingers inside of me. She sets a pace and my body follows. I can feel that pressure building up inside of me. I can feel her body moving at the pace mine is, but I'm not touching her. I dawns on me then. "Is this how you touch yourself" I ask with bated breath.

"Maybe" I can feel her smile against my neck. That makes everything even hotter. So hot in fact I need to have her stop so I don't come right now. I pull her hands away from me. "Hey, I wasn't done with that" she protests, but lets me go anyway. She knows what's coming. I lay next to her and I kiss her softly. She gasps as I work my lips down to her breasts. When my mouth reaches her nipples they are already erect, due to arousal. I bite and suck them anyway, because I love it when she moans deep down in her throat. I kiss her lips again as I begin to touch her. It's slow at first. An easy go. "Oh, goddess" she pants. I can sense her detachment to the world. I can feel her fade out as it gets more intense for her. When I push my fingers inside her I can feel her tighten with each thrust. "Oh" She's so close. "Oh" Her hips buck. "Oh" She buries her face onto my shoulder and grips my hair. "Oh" She bites down. She lets out the most carnal of cries as the orgasm flows through her. I hold perfectly still as she shudders, enjoying her peak almost as much as her. Once it subsides I hold her close to me.

"Sh, baby" I whisper. She whimpers when I try and look at her. She doesn't want to leave the little burrow she's discovered. It takes her a few minutes to recover; meanwhile I'm dripping in anticipation. When she comes to she kisses me, intensely. Then she proceeds to work her way down my body, knowing that I am not up for any sort of teasing or games. Her tongue meets the spot I long for most. It doesn't take long before I am reduced to moaning and writhing. "Please" I grip her hand, indicating what I want. She knows. She buries her fingers in me and I can feel all of the blood drain my head. It's all going straight to where she's touching. A liquid heat pools in my abdomen. "Fuck me" I can hear my voice shouting. "Oh yes" It comes quick, but it feels so good.

(Ginny POV)

Once she finishes I curl around her and whisper that I love her. She nods in response. I know she does. Love me, I mean. I don't think for too much longer because sleep overwhelms me.

_Hermione smiles at me"Come on Ginny." She runs towards the woods. I chase after her. She's wearing a white summer dress. I look down to see myself in a blue one, almost identical to hers. When I look up she's at the edge of the woods, beaconing me. I follow her. We run barefoot down dirt paths to a soft creek bed. _

_"Why are we here" I ask. She only giggles and undresses. I do the same and we hold hands and jump in. We float on our backs and the creek carries us. "Where are we going"_

_"Home" she grins._

_"Home"_

_"Here" we stand and we're in a back yard. She takes my hand and we walk into the house. I realize that it's the Burrow. "We're home, Ginny."_

(A/n: Well, well. There it is. The smut. Its not my best work, but I hope you all liked it. Review!)


	6. H&G POVs: Paris

(A/n: It seems I have come out of my rut! But… unfortunately for you I am heading to Florida for vacation… and this will probably be the only update for the next month or so. Kthxbai.)

DISCLAMER: I do not own the Harry Potter characters or imaginary places. They are owned and created by J.K. Rowling, published by Scholastic Books Inc, Bloomsbury Books Inc, Raincoat Books Inc, Warner Brothers Inc, and others. No money is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

WARNINGS: femmeslash, war-time

Chapter Six

(Hermione POV)

I've never seen her so happy, at least not during the war. Every time she comes here she curls up on my couch and grins. My post has become somewhat of a home. That kind of scares me. The attachment. We're not supposed to get attached to things. I can't help but sigh. We aren't supposed to get attached to people. There's a problem here. I'm attached to her, she's attached to me, and this is our home.

The buzzer. She's here. I grin widely. My beloved Ginny has come home. I watch her walk in the door. She puts her coat on the chair and unties her boots. After that she looks up at me coyly and smiles.

"Hi 'Mione," she says and waggles her digits at me.

"Well, that isn't much of a hello," I pull her close and kiss her hard. I can feel the familiar goose-bumps spreading all over my body.

She lifts me up; I can fee her arms tense for an instant as she does so, and she carries me into the bedroom. She's given up on the silly "let me put the kettle on" routine. Yes it is awfully cute, but tonight isn't a night for those sorts of games. I want her. All of her. With no time to waste. She knows it. I'll bet she can smell it too.

She likes to taunt me. She kisses me neck tenderly, nibbling from time to time; sucking on the tender flesh until she's made her mark, and made me moan with pleasure. She also leans in, to kiss me, and the moment our lips meet, she pulls away. It simply drives me mad, because I don't realize it's a game after a few times. Finally I get frustrated and pull her lips onto mine. She smiles against my kiss, giggling a little.

At this point I've had enough. "Clothes off," I order. Her fingers fly down the buttons of her black button up. Growing impatient, I help by pulling the shirt apart, sending some buttons airborne. She fumbles with her belt. She's nervous about something.

"What's wrong?" I ask, slightly exasperated.

(Ginny POV)

What's wrong? What's wrong! I'm leaving, Hermione. You know this. I'm being transferred to Paris. I'm not supposed to leave the country of France, unless told otherwise. The chances of seeing you are so low that there's no point in trying to find the percentage. The percentage may as well be zero. Who knows if I'll ever see you again, and you're asking me what's wrong?

She looks at me expectantly. What does she want me to say?

"Nothing," I whisper and unzip my pants. She pulls them down and I step out of them. I sigh and walk past her, and sit on the bed. She undresses, pulling off the minimal clothing she had to start with; a black tank top and skirt, nothing else. She's beautiful. I trace her body and I reach out to touch it. This may be the last time I ever feel her soft skin beneath the pads of my fingers. I refuse to waste this exquisite moment.

I lean back and you are on top of me. We kiss, and this time it isn't as feverish. You know and I know that this could be it. It must be cherished. It's soft yet intense. I rake my fingernails down your back, in hopes of eliciting some sort of audible response. Somehow or another I'm on top of you, my thigh pressed against you, heartbeats accelerating. Moving aside, I reach down and touch you. Your face contorted with pleasure is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, your mouth making an 'o' and your eyes shut tight.

(Hermione POV)

I know Gin, you're leaving. I just don't want to think about it. I want you to leave here, knowing, that I love you and always will. I want you leaving with the most elated feeling in the world. I love you Ginny and I need you to know it. No point in talking now. Not with your hand between my thighs and that feeling that's pooling inside me. The pressure is building up so fast. It takes all of my energy not to curse when you thrust inside of me. The feeling is so amazing; the feeling of momentarily being part of the same entity as you. I shut my eyes tighter as my muscles begin to twitch and contract to their own accord. That pooling pressure is at the threshold. And finally the dam breaks, releasing the energy. I cry out and you pull me close, whispering lovely things to me.

(Ginny POV)

You waste no time in going in for the kill. You toy with my breasts only for a moment; kissing, caressing, and licking. You delight in the way I squirm beneath your tongue. Your finger tips trail lazily down my body. I shudder and writhe. You know what I want. You can tell when you run your fingers over the dampened flesh. I squeak and whine, just enough for you to touch me. Jolts of pleasure course their way through my body. They start from where you're touching and spread to my fingertips and toes. Suddenly the feeling hits me on the top of the head and my body is no longer in the bed. It's not anywhere, but with you.

It's dark when I float back down. "That was wonderful," I mumble. We entangle ourselves with one another. It never ceases to amaze me how lovely her body fits with mine.

"I'm going to miss you," she whispers.

I nod. "I'm going to miss you too. You have no idea how much." I quietly begin to cry. At first it's just the heavy breathing and a few tears. The next thing I know I'm full snotting all over her hair. I apologize.

"It's okay," she whispers and sniffles a little, "we're going to be okay." It seems like she is trying to reassure herself as well as me at the same time. In truth neither of us knows, and neither of us is reassured.

(Hermione POV)

"I love you Hermione," she says, with another sob.

I let out a strangled noise too, "I-I- love you too."

She's shaking. I hold her tight, rubbing her back gently. I don't want this to be the last time I hold her. I'm not entirely sure if she's even coming back, whether it be alive or in a box. Frankly, I don't know which thought I'm more afraid of. If she dies, I'll be crushed. If she comes back alive, I'm afraid I'll go into a state of complete bliss and never look back. Holy Gods and Goddesses, I'm in love with Ginny Weasley.

I feel her back tense and flex as she props herself up off the bed. She wipes her face of the tears and leans in to kiss the ones falling down mine. "This won't be permanent, I promise. I am coming back."

I hope so.

(Ginny POV)

As the sun rises I gather my clothes from the floor and slowly dress. She watches me from the bed. She's propped up on her arm, with a small smile playing at her lips.

"Goddamn, Gin, I'm going to miss that sexy body of yours holding me at night."

I smile and laugh a little, while I pull up my pants. Next comes my shirt. Damn. It's missing a few buttons. This makes her giggle girlishly. She likes to ignore what's happening until the last minute. I pull on my boots and, on cue, her face turns somber. I find a spot to sit on the bed next to her.

"Hermione, I love you so much. But now I have to go. I'll be fine, if you are."

"Oh, I love you so much, Ginny!" She reaches up and hugs me tight. I hug her back while she tries to swallow her tears.

Slowly I stand. "Goodbye," I whisper. I look back one last time and I shut the door. Now I'm off to fly to Paris and possibly my demise; towards the rising sun.

Fin

(A/n: Kind of anti-climactic, huh? Oh well. I had fun while it lasted, but it just needed to end. PWP's don't really do it for me, unless it's a one-shot… and I totally let this one go long enough. Well, I hope you liked it. If you did not, don't worry about it because I didn't like it either.)

Until next time,

Jezebel Malice

March 30, 2005, 12:34am


End file.
